


Marvel Shorties

by ilse_writes



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: A little bit of everything, About almost all the Avengers, But mostly Loki, Gen, Sad Stories, Short Stories, Silly Stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:40:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21549277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilse_writes/pseuds/ilse_writes
Summary: Oneshots and short stories from the Marvel (alternate) universe. Mostly Avengers and Loki, for now...
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Kitty

**Characters:** _Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton, Thor, Loki_

***

Steve Rogers was already sitting at the large table in the conference room when Bruce Banner walked in. "Hey, Steve, how's it going?"

"I'm fine," was the short answer. Steve was thumbing through a small stack of papers in front of him. "Thank you for the report on your research," he said, looking up to Bruce. "If I have to wait for Tony to give it to me, I might as well get back into the ice."

Bruce chuckled in his seat next to the Captain. "We don't want that."

Steve glanced at his watch. "It would be nice if meetings could start on time for once," he muttered.

"Who's late?" Natasha said innocently. Bruce and Steve looked up to see Natasha and Clint sitting in the chairs closest by the door. The spy and the archer smirked, acting as if they had been sitting there all along.

"Who are we missing?" Bruce asked. "Stark, of course. Who else?"

"Thor and Loki should be here too," Steve answered.

"Why does that snake have to come along? One Asgardian is more than enough," Bruce protested weakly.

"Loki has helped us on more than one occasion, Bruce," Steve said absentmindedly, reading the papers in front of him.

Bruce leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming on the table. Clint and Natasha were having a silent conversation of their own and Steve was reading. The scientist jumped in his seat when he suddenly felt something push against his legs; he looked down to discover a black cat that rubbed its head to his pants.  
"How did you get here?" Bruce asked, reaching to scratch the animal's head. The cat purred in response.

Steve looked under the table too. "A cat? Since when do we have a cat in the building?"

"Dunno," Bruce shrugged, picking up the animal. "Pretty little thing, though."  
The cat was pitch black with green eyes and long haired fur. Bruce petted the animal on his lap, the cat turning and twisting under his hands to guide him to the best spots, purring loudly.

"Aww, he likes you," Natasha said when the cat rubbed his head against Bruce's chest.

"Is it a he or a she?" Steve asked, scratching the cat under it's chin.

The animal pushed against his hand for more, and jumped over to the Captain's lap, much to Bruce's dismay. "Hey!"

"Sorry, Bruce, you've been replaced," Steve grinned, cuddling the cat against his chest.

But Bruce managed to lure the cat back to him, making a face at Steve when the cat jumped back to the scientist's lap. He just buried his face in the cat's fur when Tony walked in. "Did I miss a memo? Is it Bring Your Pet To Work Day?"

"Isn't it yours then?" Natasha asked, who had left her seat to come sit next to Bruce to pet the cat too.

"Nope," Tony responded with a smirk. "You guys are my pets." He walked over to scratch the animal on the head. It purred loudly, appreciating all the attention. "Nice kitty," Tony cooed.

The cat jumped on the table and sat in front of Natasha. When she leaned in, the animal rubbed his head against her neck and chest. "Aww, he's very cuddly!" she giggled, scratching the cat near the base of his tail, making it purr even louder.  
Natasha was cradling the cat in her arms, cooing to it like it was a baby, when Thor walked in, announcing his presence with a booming hello.

"Great, we're all here, let's get started," Bruce said, pulling his hand back from petting the cat.

"Wait, we're still missing someone. Where's Loki?" Steve asked, turning to Thor.

"What do you mean, where is Loki?" the God of Thunder responded.

"You know, that black haired brother of yours,"Tony said with a smirk. "The one with the antlers." 

"They're not antlers, Stark," Thor said and it looked like he was gonna start an explanation of what the horned helmet actually depicted, before Steve cut him off.

"I'd like to get started. Is Loki not coming?"

"What do you mean, he is not coming?" Thor sounded confused. "He got here before me."

Everyone looked at Thor, not knowing what he was talking about. The cat jumped on the table and stretched slowly, his tail curled up in the air. With lazy paces it walked across the table and jumped in the empty seat next to Thor.

"Wait..." Tony exclaimed, looking frantically from Thor to the cat. "You don't mean..?!"

A loud laugh turned everyone's attention to Clint. The archer slumped over on the table, his whole body shaking with laughter; he slammed the table with his fist, laughing his ass off.

"What's so funny?" Bruce asked, not understanding a thing from what was happening.

"Oh! You asshole!" Natasha shot up from her chair, pointing at the cat who seemed to smile at her.

"I still don't get..." Bruce started to say when the air around the cat shimmered and a green light rippled across the animal's body, to reveal the God of Mischief sitting in the chair next to Thor.


	2. F*ck, marry or kill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha and Wanda play a game. Thor wants to join in on the fun, though he has some trouble interpreting the rules.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: strong language / swearing up ahead! Skip this chapter if you're not comfortable with that.
> 
> Characters: Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov, Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton, Thor, Loki.

"Uhm... fuck Gaston, marry Beast and kill Lumière," Natasha said as she walked in the room.

"Really?" Wanda watched her friend in surprise. "You'd kill Lumière? He's funny!"

Natasha just shrugged and put her yoga mat in the corner. "He gets on my nerves. Besides, fucking a candle stick doesn't sound that alluring."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Tony was looking at them wide eyed, frozen half way in pouring himself a coffee. Natasha casually tipped the coffee can upright to prevent Tony from flooding the kitchen counter.

"Thank you," Tony said absentmindedly. "Care to explain why you lovely ladies are talking about killing a candle stick?"

"Not just a candle stick, _Lumière_ ," Wanda said, opening the fridge in search of a cold drink.

"No, that explains everything." Tony turned to Clint, who sat on a bar stool at the counter. "Are you gonna help me out, buddy?"

Clint looked up from the _Countryside & Small stock journal_ magazine he was reading and shrugged. "They're playing Fuck, Marry, Kill with Disney characters."

Tony grunted. "I thought those yoga classes were meant to make you all zen and stuff, not fucked up in the head."

"Humans are obtuse," Loki huffed from his place on the couch. He was building a house from playing cards on the coffee table. Only his house looked more like a castle and the cards hovered in the air, a couple of inches above the table.

"Nonsense, brother. I like Midgardian games!" Thor said with a broad grin. He leaned over the armrest. "Can I play?"

"Allright!" Wanda said. "You have to choose who you'd fuck, marry or kill from the three names we give you."

"Seems simple enough. But aren't you supposed to wed someone first before you bed them?"

Wanda looked at Thor's innocent smile and grinned. Natasha only shook her head. "Those rules don't apply to this game, Thor," she said.

"Oh, ok." The God of Thunder watched the two women expectantly, eager to participate in the game.

"Ok. Fuck, marry or kill: Cinderella, the Little Mermaid and Snow White," Wanda offered. She and Natasha had taken a seat next to Clint on the bar stools. They were all watching the Asgardian god, curious to hear what he'd say. The room was silent, the only sound came from Tony slurping his coffee.

Thor looked thoughtful, a frown appearing on his handsome face. "Uhm..." He really seemed to be thinking hard.

"Careful, he might hurt his brain," Tony muttered softly, but Natasha motioned for him to be silent.

"Brother, I need help." Thor nudged Loki's arm, which caused the God of Mischief to knock into one of the towers of his palace of cards. A quick move of hands prevented the cards from falling on the table, they now floated slowly back on the stack.

"What?!" Loki hissed at his big brother, annoyed that he was pulled into this game.

"Who do I have to fuck, marry or kill?"

"What do I care?"

"Come on, little brother. You always seem to have the best grasp on Midgardian culture from the two of us. Help me out."

Loki let out an exasperated sigh, but gave in anyway. "What are the choices?" he asked the women curtly.

"Cinderella, the Little Mermaid and Snow White," Wanda answered brightly, barely holding back a snicker.

Loki frowned when he heard the names, clearly not knowing any of them.

"Well?" Thor was looking at his brother expectantly.

The raven-haired Asgardian grunted softly and then analysed out loud. "A girl made of cinders doesn't sound that appealing, either kill her or fuck her once, with your eyes closed. A mermaid is half fish, so intercourse is out of the question. And Snow White could be a hot blonde if her name refers to her looks, maybe some sort of Lightelf. I guess that would be your best bet."

"Thanks brother!" Thor said happily, slapping his brother hard on the shoulder. He turned back to the four Avengers by the kitchen counter. "I have my answer!"

"Oh, this is gonna be good!" Tony chuckled.

Thor perched upright to give his answer. "I will kill the cinder-girl. Seeing as she has already been burned, I suspect she has come back from the death. Those creatures need to stay in Hel."

"Allright, did not expect that," Tony said drily, while Clint, Natasha and Wanda held back a laugh.

"And who do you fuck or marry?" Natasha asked, composing herself.

"I would marry and then bed the Snow White girl," Thor answered brightly.

"Wait, what about The Little Mermaid?" Wanda asked. "You don't have any choices left. What are you gonna do with her?"

Thor looked at Wanda as if his choice was obvious. "I'm gonna eat her, of course. I like fish!"


	3. Visiting a goddess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony takes Loki and Steve to go ask an old friend for help. Little does he know that the woman and Loki go way back...
> 
> Characters: Loki, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers

"Remind me again why I have to come up with you?" Loki was leaning back against the mirrored wall of the elevator, eyeing his billionaire companion.

"Because I don't trust you," Tony Stark said frankly. "I'm not leaving you alone with my car. Not again."

"That was one time," Loki chuckled.

"Yes, and I had to track down my car to the middle of the desert, almost fifty miles from Las Vegas!"

"Guys," Steve Rogers said in a warning tone. "Leave it. That was six months ago. We're here on business, let's keep it professional."

The God of Mischief smiled from the memory and watched the floor numbers go up. "Is that why we brought that expensive bottle of wine?"

Tony was holding a bottle in a pretty wrap in his hand, they had stopped to buy it on their way over here. "Sometimes you have to do more than just ask nicely," Tony said, still glaring at the dark haired Asgardian across from him.

Loki scoffed. "I don't need to bring wine if I want something from a woman."

"Guys!" Steve interrupted before yet another heated discussion could form between the two men. "We're here."

The elevator doors opened to the top floor of the high rise building. There were two penthouses here, one door to their left and one door to their right. They went for the left one, Steve knocking on the door with a metal knocker in the shape of a grapevine.

"Door is open!" a female voice called from inside.

With a look at each other the three men stepped inside, Loki trailing behind. Tony led the way, he had been here before. The penthouse was richly decorated in a mix of ancient Greek and Roman style. The whole floor smelled heavily of flowers; no wonder, with a vase of flowers on almost every flat surface.   
They came across a kitchen where a man was preparing lunch behind a counter. They couldn't see his lower half, but on top he was only wearing an apron, the fabric barely covering his chisled torso. When he saw the three visitors he flashed them a dazzling smile.

"Remind me who it is we're visiting here?" Loki asked, stopping to look around him at the lavish decor. But neither Tony or Steve answered, having already entered the living room.

Above the fireplace was a large painting, depicting a naked woman surrounded by barely dressed men and women who all seemed to adore her. The woman in the foreground was strategically covered by either her long blonde hair, grapevines or flowers. She was of angel-like beauty and both Tony and Steve were struck by the lifelikeness of the painting.  
"Is that her?" Steve said under his breath, gazing at the woman in the painting.

"Yup," Tony said, equally impressed, even though he knew the woman already.

A woman came in the room from the roof terrace. She wore a light blue chiffon dress that moved in the slight breeze that came in from outside. Blonde curls cascaded down her back, nearly reaching her upper thighs. On her head she wore a thin leaf headband, giving her a royal look as if it was a crown.   
"Tony, how delightful to see you," she said in a voice that tinkled like water droplets. She held out her hand and Tony bowed a little to kiss it lightly.

When he straightened again, he spotted the jacuzzi on the terrace, two men lounging in it with their muscly arms stretched out along the edge.   
"Did we come at a bad time?" he asked with a grin, but their hostess waved his question away.

"Who's your friend?" she asked, looking Steve up and down. To Tony's amusement the Captain slowly turned beet red under the woman's bold gaze.

"My dearest Dione, may I introduce you to Steve Rogers, better known as Captain America."

"Enchanté," Dione said in a sultry voice, holding out her hand for Steve as she had done with Tony.

Tony had to poke Steve in his side before the Captain remembered his good manners and stopped staring. "Nice to meet you, madam," he said quickly, kissing her hand.

"And you, Captain. The pleasure is all mine." Dione trailed her fingers up Steve's arm, briefly hooking one finger under the sleeve of his T-shirt. He gulped, watching the beautiful woman before him with wide eyes.

"We come bearing gifts," Tony said casually and Steve took a deep breath when Dione turned her attention back to the billionaire. Steve was never that much of a smooth talker around pretty women, but this woman was something else entirely. When she looked at you, it was as if she was looking at a tasty dish, ready to devour you.

Dione took the bottle from Tony, pulling it from its rectangular wrapping. "Ah, Chateau Soixant Neuf, and a good year. Thank you for your offering."  
She waved her hand and four glasses appeared on the table next to them. With another wave of her hand she uncorked the bottle and poured the red wine in the glasses. She offered one to Tony, who graciously accepted.

"It's not even noon," Steve muttered when she presented him with a glass, but he took it from her anyway. He got the feeling you didn't say no to Dione. "How do you know this woman, Stark?" he asked quietly when she turned back to pick up her own glass.

"We both like the good life," Dione answered, stepping closer to Tony to stroke his cheek. "Don't we, Tony?" The billionaire smiled sheepishly and shrugged at Steve before he drank of his wine.   
"Now tell me, Tony, what do you need from me? These days you only visit me for work-related reasons," Dione said playfully. "A shame, I might add." She stepped around him, trailing her fingers across his shoulders and down his arm. This time even Tony turned a little red, blinking at the seductress.

"We need some information. You know, the usual. Bad guy did something bad, have to punish him. We think he might hang around in your circles."

"Ugh, boring," Dione answered, rolling her eyes.

"But you'll help us, right?" Tony asked, batting his eyes at her with a playful smile.

"Sure," Dione answered, pecking him on the lips. "For old times' sake." She looked around the room. "Now, where is your other friend? Maybe he wants to play. Mr. Captain over here is too much of a straight shooter for my taste." She shot Steve a smile and took a sip of her wine. "No offence, honey."

"None taken, madam. But I don't know if our friend is right for you."

There was a low chuckle from behind them. "Oh, I think I can fit in." Loki was leaning against the wall near the door to the hall, picking nonchalantly from a bunch of grapes. "Nice to see you again, Dione," he said, inclining his head with a smirk.

"Oh great, you brought the God of Lies to my house?!" Dione exclaimed irritatedly, glaring at Tony. "Now I have to get dressed for real," she muttered, before walking away to another room, presumably a bedroom.

"You don't have to trouble yourself for me, darling," Loki snickered. "Nothing I haven't seen before."

"You are always spoiling my fun!" she bit back at him from the doorway, the illusion of her blue dress dissapearing to reveal her naked body.

Steve gasped as she slammed the door. "She was naked? This whole time?"

Loki walked over to the remaining glass of wine and took a swig. "Yes, the daughter of Bacchus doesn't like clothes that much."

"Daughter of Bacchus?" Steve wondered out loud, still staring at the closed door to the bedroom.

"Or Dionysus, depending on whether you're Roman or Greek."

"And you could see she was naked the whole time?" Tony asked, grinning at Loki.

"Yes. An illusion is just another lie. And I am the God of Lies, after all."

"I didn't think I would ever say this," Tony said, holding his glass up to Loki. "But sometimes I would like to be you!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The painting mentioned in the story is based on a work by William Etty (1787–1849), Ariadne (year not known), oil on board laid down on masonite, 50.1 × 65.5 cm, Private collection.   
> Ariadne is often referred to as Dionysus's wife, so she could be Dione's mother.


	4. Shakespeare in Regent's Park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Strange goes to see a play in the park. Meanwhile, Loki has the same idea...
> 
> Let's break the fourth wall, shall we? :-D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Dr. Strange, Loki

Dr. Strange strolls through the woods of Regent's Park in London. He's on his way to the Open Air Theatre, his ticket to Shakespeare's Hamlet in his pocket. The point of his umbrella adds a ticking sound to the crunching of his feet on the gravelled path. The evening sun shines through the leaves over his head. It's a delightful summer evening, one where the heat of the day has been replaced by a gentler warmth, ideal for watching a play in the open air. Still, it's England, so an umbrella is no luxury. Of course he could keep himself dry with magic, but the world of mystic arts is best kept from the general public.

Dr. Strange is looking forward to this evening. He's a fan of the theatre arts, and makes sure he visits a play every now and then. It's food for the mind and soul. Especially when it's a play from England's greatest, Shakespeare. Although he has also seen some very good plays by others, in tiny theatres, performed by very talented, yet unknown actors.   
But in the summer he likes to come here, in Regent's Park. It's quite something, to enjoy an exquisite performance on stage, while listening to the sounds of nature. And there are more people that share the same opinion: there is a line. Standing in line used to be something he'd refuse to do, period. The old Dr. Strange did not wait in line, not for his Starbucks coffee and not to get into a theatre or concert. There were people that could do that for him. But his training for the mystic arts had taught him patience, among other things, and a more humble look on life. So he gets in line and waits for his turn to show his ticket and get in. 

He has a seat on one of the front rows, with a perfect view on stage. There are a few open seats on the front row, his is one of them. People are filling the rows from two sides and he has to wait for an elderly couple to get seated before he can enter the row where his seat is. He checks the number on his ticket, first row, seat number 11, this is it. 

"Dr. Strange," a deep voice states. It's not so much of a greeting; more of a statement, with an edge of dislike. Like when you go out for an icecream but you find your favourite icecream parlour closed that day due to 'family circumstances'. You can't get mad at someone for closing his shop to bury a relative, but you don't have to like it when you're confronted with a closed door. 

"Loki," Dr. Strange answers in the same tone. The two sorcerers stare each other down, each with their ticket in their hand, barely more than a feet apart. They have seen each other on a handful of occasions, but ever since their first encounter - something about an endless fall - they tend to stay clear of the other. After all, you don't have to hold hands when you help out The Avengers with whatever it is they're doing to save the world, or just to nab a baddie.

"What's it gonna be guys? Kiss or take a seat?" a woman calls from the third row. Two pair of dark eyes now stare at her instead of each other. The woman chuckles nervously and regrets her bold remark in that instant, trying to disappear in her seat. The sorcerers turn their gaze back to each other for a second and simultaneously lower themselves in their designated seats, keeping their eyes on the stage from that moment on.

About forty minutes in the play, Dr. Strange opens his program booklet to look at the cast list. The lead actor makes a great Hamlet and he has not seen this actor on stage before. "Be-ne-dict Cum-ber-batch." He spells out the name softly, shaking his head at the wonderous cumulation of syllables. 

"Midgardian names are stupid," Loki says quietly.

"Correction: British names are stupid. In the States we're more straight forward about names."

Loki snorts. "Yes, Strange is so much better than Cucumbersnatch."

"Sshh!" The sorcerers get hushed from multiple sides and quickly shut their mouths again. 

But they're not the only ones that disturb the silence: a few minutes later a man in the fourth row starts coughing. And he doesn't stop. Every few seconds he coughs, trying to minimise the noise as much as possible, yet only succeeding in the opposite. The audience around him grows a little restless, irritated by the disturbance. Dr. Strange makes a circular motion with his fingers, conjuring up a small spell to shut the man up. In the corner of his eye he sees Loki's hand starting to glow too. 

"Better not do it both," Strange says quietly. "We don't want to kill the man."

"Speak for yourself," Loki whispers back. Dr. Strange shoots him a look and Loki rolls his eyes in response, but the green light between his fingers dims anyway. 

When the podium lights flash over the audience, Dr. Strange makes use of the opportunity to put his spell on the man, who immediately ceases his annyoing coughing fit. "That's better," Strange says, turning his attention back to the stage. 

When the last words on stage are spoken, the audience - including the two sorcerers - rises from their seats for a standing ovation. The actors bow when they receive their praise. 

"I didn't take you for a lover of the fine arts," Dr. Strange says to Loki when the applause is over and the audience slowly starts to make their way to the exits.

"It's about the only thing I like on Midgard," Loki answers. "Besides the women."

Strange chooses to ignore that last comment. "Great actor, that Cumberbatch."

"I've seen better Hamlets," Loki says, falling into pace with Strange on their way to the exit.

"Really? I would say this performance is hard to surpass."

"I've seen Kenneth Branagh's production for the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art," Loki answers. "He had some Tom playing Hamlet. Tom Hiddystone or something, another stupid name. But an excellent actor."

"You had tickets for that exclusive show?" Strange exclaims and looks at his companion in surprise. Loki just looks smug.

The first drops of rain start to fall when they exit the theatre. Dr. Strange opens his umbrella, a little pleased to notice the other sorcerer didn't think to bring any protection for the rain. But the Asgardian god takes one look up at the sky and disappears in a flash of green light. 

"See you next show, Strange," is the last thing Dr. Strange hears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This little story is one of my personal favourites ;-)


	5. Lucy the service dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony Stark suffers of panic attacks. They get really bad sometimes and the press is eager to report on them. However, Tony hates doctors... He loves Pepper on the other hand, and Pepper knows what's good for Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This short story about Tony Stark and a service dog was requested by @iamKhrfan123 on Wattpad.
> 
> Characters: Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Happy

When Tony gets home, Pepper immediately knows what's up. He walks straight to his workshop, not even acknowledging her presence. Not a second after the door closes behind him loud rock music blares through the speakers and Pepper knows she will not see Tony for the rest of the night.

Happy puts the overnight bags and a heavy suitcase with demo equipment on the floor, pushing his hands against his lower back directly after. Pepper rushes to him. "Happy! You shouldn't be carrying those by yourself!"

The bodyguard groans, yet he waves her worries away anyway. "It's okay. I'm fine."

Pepper shakes her head at him, though she doesn't press on. "How bad was it?"

Happy understands her question. "Could be worse. He didn't break down in front of the reporters this time."

Pepper sighs. "Any damage?"

"No, not really. The pneumatic arm snagged a vase of flowers when he ran to the back after the press conference. It was just a regular glass vase, the concierge of the conference center didn't mind." Happy shrugs slightly, he knows as well as Pepper that Tony's break downs can have far worse outcomes than broken vases.

The strawberry haired CEO of Stark Industries takes action, doing the little things she can do at this moment. She alerts Domestic Dummy, the robot that serves as an extra hand on the ground floor of the Stark residence, to take the heavy suitcase to the elevator so it can be taken to the lab in the basement. Pepper takes the two overnight bags to the bedroom herself, unpacking them and putting Tony's toiletries back in the en suite bathroom.   
She can't do much for Tony now, he'll need a few hours to come to himself, even though he already had some time on the plane after the press conference. Hiding in his workshop is what works best for him at the moment, although Pepper would love to see that changed. Yet Tony refuses to see a therapist and even though he allows her to see him at his most vulnerable, he doesn't want to talk about it. So Pepper does what she can; making sure everything runs smoothly, without bothering Tony too much when he has days like this.

Pepper has dinner with Happy that night, saving a plate to bring to Tony later that evening. They talk about the press conference and the demo of earlier that day, meant to show the world the progress they made with the prosthetics. Tony doesn't spend nearly so much time working on his suits since he took on the project to develop heavy duty prosthetics for veterans and civilians that have lost limbs during combat or work and don't want to sit on the sidelines. At first, Pepper saw it as a good thing that Tony put his time in the project instead of the suits. There are a lot of people that benefit from the project and Tony loves helping and empowering people. And then he discovered that some of the veterans he was designing prosthetics for were hurt during the Chitauri attack on New York...

The press caught on that too, jumping on a chance to add links to the chain that connects Tony to the Chitauri attack yet again. They even went as far as digging into the backgrounds of all the people who are in the project; unearthing a firefighter that got hurt in a building collapse and a construction worker that got paralyzed from the waist down when a truck ran over him during the clean up after the battle. The press knows damn well that Tony will move mountains to smooth out every wrinkle that was caused by the attack on New York; they also bring the event up every time, putting pressure on the billionaire inventor.   
At first Tony could handle it pretty well, but eventually it got to him and he started having panic attacks. Those attacks can be triggered by the simplest of things, not necessarily by the questions of reporters. Pepper tried to convince Tony to take a break from the project; of course, he refused. She often accompagnies him to press events and demonstrations to support Tony, yet she can't come to all of them. Someone needs to run Stark Industries.

When Pepper brings him his dinner, Tony has calmed down quite a bit. He kisses her and thanks her for thinking of his growling stomach.

"What was it this time?"

Tony shrugs to her question, forking his dinner at his workbench. "Same as every time. Stupid panic attack."

Pepper walks up to him and puts her arms around his shoulders from behind. "I really think you should talk to Dr. Ramirez, he can help you. Or maybe prescribe medication."

She can feel Tony tense up under her embrace. "I am not taking any pills. I don't want to lull my mind to sleep 24 hours a day."

Pepper sighs softly and presses a kiss to Tony's cheek. "It could help you relax more."

He turns his head and catches her lips with his. "I'm okay, darling. My workspace is like a Spa to me. I can relax here."

The next day Pepper sits at her desk, sifting through the mail. This particular stack of mail contains requests from various charities and help organisations for funding or donations. She is just idly thumbing through the letters, when something catches her eye. Four letters. PTSD.  
The letter front shows a small picture of a blond labrador, wearing some sort of vest. Underneath is the name of the organisation: America's Vetdogs. They are residenced in the state of New York and they are asking for a donation to make them help build a new kennel for their dogs in training. The letter explains the service dogs are trained for various purposes, from aiding the blind to seizure response and apparently there are also dogs who help with PTSD.   
Pepper leans back in her chair, ideas already running through her mind...

*** (POV switch) ***

Tony drives his car to Smithtown, NY, a drive of little over an hour from Manhattan. Next to him sits Pepper, with a smug smile on her face for a reason that Tony can't get her to spill. She has been secretive all week, clearing his calendar so he could go with her today. To where, he does not know; she put the directions in his car's GPS and now he's driving to a town he has never been before.

When they reach their destination, Tony sees a low, wide spread building, with an American flag hanging from a mast on the front lawn. There's a large sign nailed to the wall next to the entrance. "America's Vetdogs", it says in blue letters against a white background.   
"Pepper? What is this? Is this another one of your tries to get me on a bunny diet? Vetdogs? Is that something like vegetarian hotdogs? Or are they vetinarian hotdogs?"

Pepper rolls her eyes at him. "Cutting back on meat would be a healthy choice, Tony. And it's better for the environment too. But that's not why we're here. Now, get out of the car!" The strawberry haired woman pushes his shoulder before she steps out of the car herself.

Tony gets out too, scanning his surroundings. Smithtown is a typical American town, nothing out of the ordinary. The only thing that catches his attention is the clamour from behind the building; there are a lot of dogs there, barking against each other and making their metal cages rattle.

Pepper has already made her way to the door and Tony follows her quickly, getting there just in time to open the door for her. Their visit is expected, because a man in his early thirties immediately comes up to them, his hand already stretched out to Pepper.   
"Mike Hayman", he introduces himself, "we spoke on the phone, Miss Potts."

"Nice to meet you, Mike. Please, call me Pepper," the woman says warmly before she turns a little to introduce Tony. "This is..."

"Tony Stark," Tony says quickly. "You may have heard of me."

Mike smiles. "I have indeed, sir. Thank you so much for your generous donation!"

"It's nothing, you're welcome," Tony automatically replies, raising one questioning eyebrow for Pepper. "Now, I'm sure you can tell me what you plan to do with my money."

"Even better, I can show you! Please, follow me." Mike walks ahead of them through a corridor that leads them to the back of the building. Tony notices a slight limp in the man's step and after a few more steps he is pretty sure Mike has a prosthetic leg. Maybe he - or even this organisation - is part of the program too? It could be the reason why Pepper brought him here.

Mike opens the back door and immediately the sound of the dogs is much louder. "Excuse the noise," he says with a grin. "It's almost play time, they tend to get a little excited for that."

"So we came at the right time?" Pepper asks enthusiastically and she and Mike walk up to the dog pens, Tony trailing a little behind them.

Tony takes in his surroundings, the large dog kennel being the main eyecatcher. It's a fairly open structure with a roof, which clearly has seen better days. Inside the building he saw a room with benches, this kennel is probably only used during the day. Behind the kennel is a large lawn, boxed in by a man-sized hedge; it's an educated guess that that's the play area for the dogs. To his right is another lawn, slightly smaller. There are some orange safety cones lying around, as well as a ramp and something that looks like a series of low hurdles.

"As you can see, our kennel is outdated and battered," Mike says, knocking on a plate of plywood that covers a hole in the fence that surrounds twelve dog pens. "These guys deserve a better home."

"And who are these guys?" Tony asks, walking along the row of pens, six of them on either side. Some of the dogs jump up against the fence of the door of their pen, while others only sit up attentively, wagging their tail.

"They are our service dogs in training," Mike explains, petting a black labrador through the fence. "Some are just starting their training, like this girl here." The black lab gives an excited bark. "Others are nearly ready to go home with their new owners."

"Service dogs, hm?" Tony checks out the other dogs that are excited to come out of their pen. Most of them are labradors and golden retrievers, but he also sees two poodles, a german shepherd and some long-haired dog races that Tony can't name. "Like for a blind person?"

"Yes," Mike nodds. "But also for people with psychiatric illnesses, or diabetes... honestly, the list goes on. You can train a dog for various type of needs."

All the pens have a sign with the dog's name on it. The black labrador who still tries to get Mike's attention is named Manta. Next to her sits a large German Shepherd whose name is Bogey, he is better trained already and calmly waits for his turn, slowly wagging his tail. Tony walks to the next pen, where a brown and white dog jumps up to the fence to greet him. It's a bulldog, although a little slimmer than you would expect of a dog of this breed. The dog lands back on its four paws and eagerly looks up to Tony, as if to convince him to open the door. The dog is mostly brown on top, with a white head, chest and belly. One of the ears is brown too, the colour spreading around the eye on that side of its head. "Lucifer," Tony reads from the sign.

"She is one of our newest dogs, though she already showed great progress." Mike comes to stand next to him and puts his hand through the fence to scratch the dog's head. "Good girl."

"What kind of name is Lucifer for a girl dog?" Tony raises his eyebrows in wonder. The dog looks very friendly, a menacing name like Lucifer doesn't seem to fit her.

"Her first owners thought she would be fiercer, I guess," Mike says. "When she first came to us, she had one of those punky collars, you know, the black leather ones with the metal spikes? Turned out, she wasn't so mean and her owner gave her up. Lucifer ended up with one of our volunteers and because she showed much promise, we decided to put her in our training program." He takes a leash from a hook on the wall, one of many leashes that hang there. "Come, let's take some of these guys out for a play."

The man expertly gathers some dogs from their pens, putting a leash on each of them. Pepper takes the leash of the black labrador called Manta and Tony ends up with Lucifer. The dog pushes her wet nose against his hand as if to nudge him forward. Mike has four dogs on their leashes and walks ahead of them to the lawn. There are pegs screwed in the ground, with long lines attached to them. The four dogs each get their own line and happily start running and bouncing around. "You can take their leashes off," Mike instructs Tony and Pepper. "They know to stay close."

Tony takes the leash off, which is not that easy because Lucifer keeps turning in her enthusiasm. However, the dog doesn't run away as soon as she is free; she sits back on her haunches and looks up expectantly at Tony. "What do you want?" The dog barks once, as if he could understand her.

"Here, try this," Mike says suddenly, handing him a short, fat rope with a big knot on each end. Tony takes the rope in his hand and before he knows it Lucifer bites down on the other end of it, almost pulling it from his hand. Her sudden action startles Tony and he lets go of the dog toy; Lucifer shakes it around for a bit, before she drops it at his feet and sits back to look at him. Tony tentatively picks the toy up again, to which Lucifer gets to her feet, ready to run.

And run, she does. Every time Tony throws the knotted rope across the field, the dog races after it. She keeps on returning it to him, pushing against his legs if he takes too long to throw the toy again. There is dog slime on his suit, yet Tony doesn't care one bit; he's having fun. He doesn't notice how Pepper and Mike are watching him from a distance, leaving Manta to sniff around the field. He doesn't notice how they are quietly talking about him and the dog, how the look on Pepper's face softens when she sees him interact with the bulldog. No, Tony is in his own world, just him and Lucifer, playing a game of fetch.

Tony stoops down to recieve the wet knotted rope from the dog, ruffling her coat. "You like that, Lucy?" The dog huffs and pushes her head against his chest, eager to get more cuddles. At one point she pushes so hard Tony falls backward, flat on his ass. The dog doesn't mind though, she continues to gently push against his hands and arms until he pulls her against him for a playful cuddle.

"Looks like you found a friend, Tony," Peppers says, coming closer to Tony. He doesn't react, though he continues to pet the dog. "Mike told me she is looking for an owner. What if that owner could be you?"

This time, Tony does react. He looks up to Pepper and suddenly stands up straight. "What do you mean?" It's not happy anticipation in his voice, it's distrust.

Pepper doesn't flinch however. "I mean that you could use a friend like this, a friend like Lucifer."

"Lucy," Tony corrects his fiancée without thinking. But then his jaw clenches again and his hands become fists. "Are you saying I need a service dog? Just like you say I need a psychiatrist? Or medication?"

"Tony..." Pepper's voice is soft. She reaches out to him, yet Tony pulls his arm back from her reach.

"I am not crazy!" His breathing speeds up as his brain finally puts the puzzle pieces together. This is why Pepper made him come here, she thinks he has a problem. He doesn't, right?! What are panic attacks on the scale of bigger things? He is Tony Stark, he deals with bigger things! He is not crazy. Not crazy.

Pepper repeats his name again, but Tony only glares at her. A cold chill trickles down his spine and he knows that if this continues, he will have another panic attack.

Mike slowly walks over to him, the uneven field of grass bringing out his limp more. Tony can see from the way his pants fall over his knee, that there's a prosthetic attached to his right knee.   
"Were you in the army, Mike?" Tony calls out as the man is still a few yards away. He grinds his teeth when he notices how his voice wavers a little.

Mike nods, unfazed by the sudden question; he also seems to understand what Tony is getting at. "Two tours of Iraq. 2007 and 2009. Came back with a little less of me from the last." His hand slaps his right leg, indicating the injury. "That's also how I became involved with American Vetdogs." There's a short silence before Mike nudges his chin at something at Tony's side. "She likes you."

The veteran's words make Tony's brain register what is happening right next to him; somehow the sensations had not made it to his consciousness yet. Lucy is gently pushing her head against his hand, even pawing his leg every now and then.  
Almost automatically, Tony begins to scratch her head, making circles around her ears. One white, one brown. The dog stops pawing at his leg and leans against him to enjoy the petting.

Slowly, Tony feels the anxiousness seep out of him. As long as he concentrates on petting the dog, he can keep it under control. It's a strange sensation, yet Tony knows it's true; Lucy calms him down.

It's not until Tony looks back at Pepper and Mike again, that the veteran speaks up. "I think you two would make a good team, if you're willing to put in the work."

"Work?" Tony ignores the look of relief and utter happiness he sees on Pepper's face when he asks that question, knowing full well that this was her plan all along. Maybe she wasn't sure it would work, although she is capable of many things when it comes to taking care of Tony Stark. Still, he takes the bait. For the woman who loves him; for the dog that seems velcroed to his leg.

"Lucy finished her basic training. Now, she needs to start training with her owner. You need to learn how to work with her, how to take care of her and how to handle her." Mike crosses his arms in front of his chest. "We have meetings twice a week, here. The training will take three months. If you want this, you really have to commit to this. You can't miss any of the meetings."

*** (POV-switch) ***

Pepper switches on the tv, flipping through the channels until she finds the live feed of the press conference. Tony is standing on a stage, a small podium to his left and five mannequins to his right. Each of the mannequins wears a different type of prosthetic, either to replace part of a leg or arm, or whole limbs. The prosthetics are a lot more complex than the prosthetics that are used for every day life. With these, the owners can do heavy lifting or other specific jobs that are not possible with regular prosthetics. Tony Stark looks proudly into the camera and Pepper is equally proud of him and the project. They really did a great job.

Half hidden behind the podium, Lucy is lying on stage. The dog keeps a keen eye on her owner, yet otherwise she seems relaxed. During Tony's talk she doesn't move from her spot, her only movement is a large yawn that shows her pink tongue. The dog wears a black vest, with a red patch on each side of her back that says she is a service dog. The part of her vest that covers her chest is adorned with a mini arc reactor, blue lights and all.

When it's time for the press to start asking questions, the dog sits up. At first, everything is going okay. It's not until the end that things get a little more strained. From the way he rubs his neck, Pepper can see Tony is getting a little agitated by one of the reporters. The camera is zoomed in on Tony, showing his face and upper body. Suddenly, he looks down and a smile slowly spreads across his face. The camera pans out and Lucy is pressed up against Tony's leg, like Pepper knew she would. Tony takes a moment to pet the dog, before he straightens out again and continues to answer questions from the reporters. He doesn't rub his neck anymore and his confidence is back; Lucy has owned herself a nice, fat bone tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> American Vetdogs is a real organisation, based in Smithtown, NY. They are in no way associated to me or this story, which is a work of (fan)fiction.  
> Also, if you notice some inaccuracies in this story when it comes to service dogs, please feel free to help me correct the story.


	6. Ice, ice, baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha, Peter and Loki are stuck in a surveillance van during the summer. Luckily, one of them is a Frost Giant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker, Loki

"Gah! Even my soda is hot!" Natasha scrunched up her nose and held the can of soda at an arms length. Nobody bothered to react and after a moment she sighed and took another swig of the warm Coca Cola. It was better than nothing.

The inside of the non descriptive van was sweltering hot. The vehicle had been parked in the sun all day, its occupants in the back hidden by the one way windows in the side of the surveillance van. A battered van without air conditioning, on one of the hottest days of the year. 

"Remind me again why I'm here?" said Natasha after she emptied her drink and crunched the can. She really regretted offering her assistance for this job; her back was sticking to the hot leather of her seat.

"To teach me how to do surveillance," Peter said perkily. The boy had been watching the video monitors for the last two hours, keeping tabs on the work inside the secret laboratory they had been watching for the better part of the day. The ceiling of the van was decorated in webby flowers, put there when Natasha had watched the monitors and Peter took a break. 

"At least you have a job to do," grumbled a low voice from the back of the van. "I'm bored out of my mind." Loki was laying on his back on the floor, his feet propped up high against the side of the van. 

"You have a job. There are just no asses to kick at the moment." Natasha pulled her tanktop away from her sweaty skin, the damp cotton scrunching up where she pulled at it with her fingers.  
She had taken off her blouse over an hour ago and was still sweating, even when she was only wearing a tanktop. She would have considered taking off her pants as well, if she wasn't stuck in a van with a hormone-ruled teenager and an Asgardian God of Lies she still didn't trust completely. 

Peter was hot as well, beads of sweat slowly trickling down his temple. He was wearing cargo shorts and a T-shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his shoulders. Every once in a while he pushed his hair out of his face, the strands wet with sweat. The webshooters that had been on his wrists earlier, now lay discarded in a corner of the van. His spider suit was still at Stark Tower, as this was just a surveillance job.   
Tony had ordered Peter to get some hours of ground work in, meaning he had to do surveillance the regular way, not stuck upside down to a ceiling. Natasha was there to teach him the basics and Loki was back up, in case the HYDRA scientists got any ideas. Until now, there wasn't anything interesting to see. It was just a lab, with men and women in white lab coats, who were looking down microscopes and mixing coloured fluids together. 

"How come you aren't hot?" Peter asked, looking at Loki. He was wearing his Asgardian attire: some sort of everyday armour, all leather and some bits of metal. "You should have melted by now in that outfit."

Loki shrugged, which looked a bit weird in his current position on the floor. "Frost Giant."

Peter got up from his seat and Natasha took his place. The arachnid kid stretched and stood next to Loki, looking down on the dark haired Asgardian. "Want a drink?" 

When Loki nodded, Peter got two cans of soda from a bag. Natasha was right, the cans felt warm to the touch. "Sorry, it's not really a cold beverage."  
He didn't know exactly why he apologized to Loki, it was not Peter's fault the airconditioning was broken. But the God of Lies gave him the heebie jeebies, with his dark looks and sparse conversation. Nevertheless, Loki had proved himself useful on missions with the Avengers, so Peter guessed he could trust him, at least to some point.

Loki took the beverage from Peter and pushed himself across the floor of the van with his feet, so his head was now resting against the wheel arch behind him. 

Two cans hissed when they were opened and Peter made a face when the slightly warm liquid entered his mouth. When he swallowed, his gaze fell on Loki, who seemed to be enjoying his drink. Peter's eyes went wide when he saw the droplets of water on the can.

"Your drink is cold!"

Loki arched one of his eyebrows as he looked at Peter, not lowering the can he was drinking from. "Your point being?"

"Share!" Peter yelled and pounded on the Asgardian on the floor.

He surprised Loki, who was in a position of disadvantage to the Spider kid, and Peter actually managed to grab the cold can of soda. But he also kneed the Asgardian in his ribs by accident, which Loki didn't take lightly. With a roar Loki threw Peter off, smashing him in the side of the van. The vehicle rocked on its wheels with the impact. 

"Damn it! Don't make me shoot you!" Natasha yelled, a gun aimed somewhere between Loki and Peter, leaving them to wonder if she had used the single or plural form of the pronoun.

Loki ignored the gun and glared angrily at Peter, though he didn't make a move. Peter also stayed still, sitting against the wall of the van underneath a dent in the shape of his back.

Five minutes later Peter was back in his seat in front of the monitors and Loki was sitting against the back doors of the van, with Natasha in the middle. She had an angry look on her face, but on the inside she was smiling. The temperature in the van had dropped significantly, which made being stuck inside a lot more pleasant than before. 

"This cold enough for you?" muttered Loki, holding out an iced can of soda to Natasha. Behind his back, ice flowers formed on the metal doors of the van.


	7. Get Lucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is on a quest to find Bucky. His friends help him. Maybe they'll get lucky...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Captain America / Steve Rogers, The Winter Soldier / Bucky, Falcon / Sam Wilson, Black Widow / Natasha Romanov.

Natasha Romanov flew the quinjet through the night sky. Their destination was Prague, their target the former Hydra assassin The Winter Soldier. Or, Steve's childhood friend from before he went into the ice, James Buchanan Barnes, a.k.a. Bucky. Which one of the two personalities embedded into one body they would encounter was like playing Russian Roulette: you needed a lot of luck, combined with the right skills to trick your partner. But Natasha was willing to take the chance. For Steve, but also for Bucky himself. Even when that meant taking the same chance over and over again, in different cities all over Europe.  
"We're almost there. You ready?" she asked over her shoulder, knowing Sam Wilson was sitting close behind her.

He hit the keyboard of the computer one last time. "Video surveillance of that parking garage is down. They have a power black out, or so they think. You can land."

Their intel said Bucky was staying in an old housing project, pending demolition. Most of the occupants had already moved out, a perfect spot for an assassin on the run. Steve Rogers got up from his seat and leaned with his hand on the upper beam of the cockpit. He peered into the night sky, the lights of the city beneath them coming closer and closer.

"Don't run this time, Bucky," he mumbled. It was still incomprehensible to him that they had such different goals now. That used to be different, back in the day. They might not always have quite the same motives, but the end goal was always that they stuck together, no matter what. But now... Now, all Steve wanted to do was find Bucky and bring him home. And Bucky... well, he wanted the complete opposite of that.

"You think we can catch him this time?"

Steve looked back to Sam, who had turned in his chair to watch him. "I don't want to catch him," Steve answered. "I want to take him home."

"Yes, only in this case 'taking home' is something like getting a muzzle on a tiger." Sam arched his eyebrows. He wanted to help Steve find his friend, but that friend packed a mean kick.

The quinjet landed on the emtpy rooftop of the parking garage. Their jet was cloaked, obscuring it from view for any onlookers. Only those who knew what to look for could spot the small gusts of wind that indicated something landed on the tiled rooftop. Let's just hope Bucky Barnes wasn't one of the onlookers.

The complex where Bucky supposedly lived in, was one block away from the parking garage. Landing on top of the housing complex would have been more convenient for getting away, but if they did that, coming to Prague would surely have been a waste of time. This way there was still a small chance they would get a hold of Bucky. At first, even catching a glimpse of the Winter Soldier had been hard. Sometimes he was already long gone before they got there. But, Steve kept persisting and his stubborness started to pay off. Last time, he actually had exchanged a few words with Bucky. An angry Bucky, who barely acknowledged his name was Bucky, but still.

They had reached the building. Steve signalled for Sam and Natasha to get in position. He would go in through the front door, Sam would take the roof and Natasha the fire escape. Steve walked the empty halls, trying to keep the sounds to a minimum. It was the dead of the night, surely the Winter Soldier needed sleep too?

On his earpiece he could hear Sam humming a song. Something upbeat. Steve was grateful for his friend's support in this wild goose chase all over Europe, but right now that friend needed to shut up.  
"Sam," Steve said in a warning tone.

"Sorry," came the immediate reply, followed by the intel Steve needed from the scanner in Sam's equipement. "There's a person in the bedroom. Asleep. We might as well get lucky tonight."

Although the small explosive made barely a sound, it was still an explosive. But there was no other way for Steve to get in quickly. He opened the door slowly, fully aware of the possibility Bucky was on the other side, a gun trained on his head. But the living room was empty and Steve slowly made his way to the bedroom. The door was half way open, no way of knowing whether Bucky did that a second ago or if he had just left the door open when he went to sleep. Either way, his old friend knew he was here.

"Bucky? I don't want to fight you," Steve said, his shield raised in case his friend had other ideas about that.

Silence.

"Can we talk, Buck?"

The tip of an automatic rifle came in view. A second later the former Hydra assassin was standing in the doorway, rifle deceptively loose in his hands. He had been sleeping in his clothes and his hair was a little tousled, however, the look in his eyes was sharp and cunning. Never wake a sleeping tiger.  
"You shouldn't have come here." His voice was measured, cold.

"This is no way to live, Buck. Let me take you home." Steve lowered his shield a little. If Bucky had wanted to kill him, he would have done so already.

"Then stop hunting me," Bucky said, showing a little emotion this time. It was anger.

"I'm not hunting you," Steve pleaded, lowering his shield a little more.

"Sure looks like it."

Steve sighed. "I just want to help you, Bucky."

"Stop calling me that." Bucky took a step back into the bedroom.

Although this conversation was nowhere near the talk Steve really wanted to have with his old friend, at least he was talking. They had exchanged more words than last time, this was what he would call progress. So he took a step forward.

Wrong.

Bucky slammed the door shut. Steve shot forward, but the door was locked. In the second it took him to take a step back before launching himself against the door, Bucky had scrambled out of the window.

"He's out of the window!" Steve called out.

"I've got eyes on him," Natasha replied in his earpiece.

"Don't shoot!"

"Copy that. But he's getting away, Cap."

Steve leaned out of the window, watching Bucky leaping down from a windowsill on the first floor. "I can see that."

He ran over to the window in the living room, to the fire escape. Natasha had already reached the ground, sprinting after Bucky. Steve leaped the stairs, jumping from landing to landing.

"Sam! You've got eyes on him?"

"Yes. But... Oh, shit, he's going to the subway." Steve could hear the wind blowing in the microphone as Sam made a sharp descend.

"I thought that subway was closed?" Natasha said, her breathing a little hitched from running.

"It's out of order. But they didn't close the entrance apparently." Sam landed with a small tud at the entrance. Natasha and Steve stopped next to him.

"Be careful," Steve said, before descending the stairs. Bucky had the advantage on them, they were walking into a dark hole.

Nothing happened. The subway station was empty.

Natasha lit up the tunnels with a flashlight. "He could have gone either way," she said, turning the flashlight from left to right.

"Or through one of those doors," Sam replied, pointing to service doors on the other side of the track.

"Anything on the scanner?" Steve asked, hoping against all odds.

Sam checked the readings. "Nope. No body heat detected except for us three."

Natasha put a hand on Steve's shoulder. "Better luck next time. You got him to talk to you again, that's good. And he didn't shoot you."

"I know."

The three of them headed back up the stairs. Sam was humming that song again, this time softly singing the lyrics too. _"We're up all night 'til the sun / We're up all night to get some / We're up all night for good fun / We're up all night to get Bucky."_


	8. Questions, so many questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter has questions, so, so many questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Spider-Man / Peter Parker, Deadpool, Tony Stark, Loki, Natasha Romanov

"Hi Happy... it's Peter. But I guess you know that, with caller-ID and stuff. I'm just checking in to see if our appointment for this afternoon still stands," Peter said into the phone, his mask lifted up just a little bit so his voice wouldn't sound muffled. "I know you said I shouldn't call you about that, again, but I just wanted to make sure you're still picking me up at 3:30... it's 11:45 now... I already had lunch. I was hungry. I'm always hungry. I had Chimichanga's, like Deadpool brought me that last time. They're really tasty! But I don't know how Deadpool can eat them without spilling all over his suit. I had to swing home to wash my... Oh! Hey, Deadpool! Oh, Happy, I gotta go, Deadpool's here and..."  
A long beep interrupted Peter's rambling. "Huh, I guess his voicemail's full."

"Hi Spidey, watcha doing?" The Canadian mercenary perched down on the edge of the building, next to Peter.

The boy quickly janked his mask back down before answering. "Nothing. Just making a call."

"Were you talking about me? I think you did. I'd like to think that you did!"

Peter shifted a little on the concrete edge, he couldn't see Deadpool's face, but he would bet a month's allowance on the merc smiling just a little too creepy. Deadpool was a weirdo, a kind of nice weirdo, but still...  
He watched the mercenary from the corner of his eye. As always, Deadpool was armed to the teeth, with multiple guns strapped to his body and the two swords crossed on his back. But his spider sense spied no threath from the man next to him. As Deadpool scratched his chin through the mask, Peter did spy something else.  
"Your left hand! It's tiny! What? How? Why would? What?" Peter had a little trouble forming a meaningful sentence as his mind was racing with possible explanations for the mercenary to suddenly have a child-like hand attached to his arm. It could have been a shrink ray, or maybe some exotic disease. Who knows? Maybe it was a spell! Magic! Peter had heard about sorcerers being real.

"This? Oh, just growing it back," Deadpool said casually, catching Peter's attention again. He turned his tiny hand from side to side, flexing the little fingers. "I found myself stuck between a rock and a hard place, quite literally this time. I..."

A loud honk made the two masked men look down to the street. There was a shiny sports car parked to the curb, a dark haired man with a goatee and an expensive suit next to it.  
"Hey kid! You coming?"

Peter jumped to his feet. "Mr. Stark! Yes! I'll be right down, sir!" He turned to Deadpool and waved a little awkwardly. "Gotta go, bye!"

When he swung downwards he heard the merc call after him. "Chimichanga's next tuesday?"  
Peter put his thumb up in response to the man on top of the building and landed lightly on his feet, next to the man on the curb.

Tony Stark gestured to him to get in the car and Peter quickly walked around the luxurious sports car. This was easily the most expensive car he had ever seen up close and now he got to ride in it!  
Squirming his butt happily around in the leather seat, Peter looked at the dashboard. There were so many cool dials on there! The windows were tinted, so he figured it was safe to take his mask off. He wanted to ask Mr. Stark something about the car, but the billionaire shut him up with one look.

"Seatbelt," Tony Stark said sternly and Peter hurried to fasten the five point seatbelt. "You should not hang out with that guy, kid. He's... unstable."

"Deadpool? Yeah, he's a bit weird. But I don't think he means any harm."

"He's a mercenary, kid, he kills for money. Of course he means harm." Tony Stark looked straight ahead at the road and Peter could see how his jaw was clenched.

"I think he calls it un-aliving, sir," Peter said, immediately wishing he hadn't when he saw the angry look in Mr. Stark's eyes when he flashed him a look. "Sorry, Mr. Stark."

Tony Stark huffed. "It's okay, kid. Just be careful around that Deadpool character. I don't want to come get you every time, I don't have time for that."

"Wait..." Peter turned around in his seat. "You came to get me? Just because Deadpool was with me? How did you know? Did Happy tell you? I didn't know he actually listened to his voicemails. I mean, I supposed he would, but I wasn't sure. Does he even like me?"

Peter shut up when Mr. Stark's finger was pressed to his lips. "Shush, kid, just... shush! Stop with all the questions."

Peter nodded his head to show he understood. Meanwhile, the questions in his head just continued to pile up. He only blanked out for a second when the car drove in the underground parking garage, the big gates with the Stark logo on it opening automatically when the car approached. This was it, he was really going to visit the Stark building and he would get to meet Captain America!

In the elevator, on their way up, Peter dressed in his civilian clothes again, putting them on over his suit. He couldn't keep his mouth shut anymore, he was too excited. "Mr. Stark? Is the Captain here already? I couldn't help but notice I'm a little early for our appointment..."

"He'll be here in a short while. You can just wait for him."

Bouncing like a puppy, Peter followed Mr. Stark out of the elevator. They stepped into some sort of common room, there was a kitchen and a sitting area with a couple of couches and comfy looking big chairs.  
"Oh! You guys have a foosball table! Neat!"

"Yes. All the tech you can dream of, but we also have a neat foosball table," Mr. Stark said dryly.

Peter ran his hands over the levers. "Do you play, Mr. Stark?"

The billionaire chuckled. "I'd love to, kid. But right now, I've got some work to do. Getting you away from a certain hard to kill merc kind of interrupted my work schedule. But maybe you can get someone else to play with you."

Tony nudged his head at someone behind Peter. When he turned around, Peter saw a woman with red hair, standing near the windows. She was wearing jeans, a white shirt and a brown blazer and she looked very normal. Beautiful, but normal.  
"Hello, Peter," she said.

"You know my name?" Peter walked over to her, his hand extended.

"I'm Natasha," the woman said and shook his hand. "Welcome."

"Nice to meet you," Peter said. "Oh, hello!"

There was a tall, pale man sitting in a chair by the window. He was wearing an all black suit, like, everything black, from his shoes to his tie. His hair was also black, tied back in a ponytail. Peter started to extend his hand to this man, but he gingerly pulled his arm back when he saw the look on the man's face.

"Be nice, Reindeer Games," Tony called from the other side of the room. The billionaire was standing in the door, ready to leave. "You kids have fun!"

The man in the chair grimaced, but said nothing. The door slammed shut behind Mr. Stark and Peter decided he would try again with the unknown man.  
"Hello, Mr. Reindeer Games, my name is Peter Parker. Or Pete, that's cool too." He held out his hand to the man in black.

The man sucked in his breath and put a thin, pale hand to his equally pale face. He pinched the bridge of his nose, looking down. "My name is not Reindeer Games," he said slowly, clearly irritated.

"Oh, sorry, sir. What should I call you then?"  
The man looked up at him again, but still said nothing. Peter knew they just had a bad start, but he didn't know how to turn it around. He was curious, wondering who the guy was.

"That's Loki, prince of Asgard," the woman named Natasha said from behind him.

Loki glared at her, his lips pressed together. However, Peter ignored that and smiled wide. "Really? You're from Asgard? Like Thor? That is so cool! What is Asgard like? How did you get here? I heard there is a rainbow bridge and that you guys can travel through space! How does that work?"  
Peter started to bounce again, this day was so cool! Not only was he going to meet Captain America, but he was meeting a real life alien right now! A prince nonetheless! The prince was looking at him a little angry, but that didn't bother Peter. He was way too excited!

"Loki is Thor's brother and a master of magic," Natasha said, and Peter could just hear her smiling behind his back. At the word magic he let out an excited whimper, balling his fists.

Suddenly, the man in black spoke up. He had a slight accent, yet his speech was very proper. "You know, Peter, I understand that you have a lot of questions. You can ask anything you want. But first, did you know Natasha is also known as Black Widow?"

Peter whipped his head around, his body following a split second slower. "You are the Black Widow? Wow! This day is getting better and better! It's an honour to meet you, madam!"  
He had a hard time deciding which person was cooler: the beautiful but deadly assassin slash spy or the Royal sorcerer from Asgard. He decided to go with the latter for now. Turning back to Loki, who now smiled at him in a friendly way, he started to fire questions at him. One question was not yet out of his mouth or another formed in his head. There were so many things he wanted to know!  
"I would love it if you could tell me more about that, Mr. Loki!" he finally concluded, a little out of breath from speaking so fast.  
The Asgardian prince continued to just look at him, the smile at his face unwavering. Peter waited, but it was like Loki wasn't going to answer.   
"You said I could ask anything?" Peter said, a little unsure. He looked back at Natasha, who was biting her lip.

"But I never said I would answer," Loki's voice said from the other side of the room. Right before the door slammed shut, Peter saw the hint of a black suit. He looked back at the Asgardian prince before him in the chair. Suddenly, it was as if he could see right through him, and the next moment he really did. Loki was gone. Behind him, Natasha snorted out a very un-lady like laugh.


	9. Born to rule

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers visit a rock concert. The surprise is on stage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Thor, Bruce, Natasha, Clint, Tony Stark + surprise guest

As always when Tony was working, rock music was blasting through the speakers of the lab. Upstairs, in the living room, you could faintly hear the bass. Suddenly the music became louder - AC/DC sang about being back in black - and went back to the faint noise again within a couple of seconds.   
First Bruce's head appeared on top of the stairs, followed by the rest of his body. He was still wearing his labcoat and seemed immersed in his own thoughts. However, he nodded a friendly hello to his fellow Avengers who were lounging in the living room of Tony's house. They had some time off between two missions and most of them simply had no other place to be at the moment.

Bruce grabbed a soda from the fridge and plopped down on the couch next to Natasha. She was watching Thor and Clint who played a videogame.   
"You're a dirty camper," she said to Clint, who only smirked and took a shot at Thor's character from his hide out in the game.

Natasha turned to Bruce and nudged his arm. "I don't know how you stand it."

"Huh? What?"

"The loud music. It's an attack on your eardrums to work with Tony in his lab."

"Huh?" Bruce frowned and looked puzzled.

"Oh my God, it's too late for you already. You're as deaf as Clint!" Natasha put her hands over her ears in a mocking gesture.

Suddenly, Bruce his face lit up and he put his hands to his ears too. With his thumbs and index fingers he plucked two noise cancelling earplugs from his ears.  
"I'm sorry," he said to Natasha, "I forgot I still had these in. What were you saying?"

Down in the lab, Tony was working concentratedly on a new sonic blaster for his suit. He was sort of stuck at the moment. He needed an elegant solution for embedding the sonic blaster in the suit's gloves, but everything he had tried so far didn't work out the way he wanted it to.   
"I need some fresh ideas," he mumbled to himself. "A new view, another angle."  
He turned the sonic blaster around in his hands, listening to the tunes of Led Zeppelin's 'Immigrant song'.  
"Friday?"

"Yes, Mr. Stark?"

"Search Spotify for new releases that I might like. I need some new input, not those old rockers."

"Right away, Mr. Stark."

When the last notes of 'Immigrant song' died down, a song started that Tony had never heard before. But it had a fast bassline and the guitars were on the heavy side, so it fit his criteria. Before long, he was tapping his foot to the bass.  
"Friday, line up some more songs of this band. They're good."

"They only have one album out, sir. I'm playing that now."

"What's it called?"

"Born to rule, sir."

Tony smirked. "Catchy!"

Whether it was the new music or just dumb luck, about twenty minutes later Tony found the perfect solution for his problem. Satisfied with his work for the moment, he left the sonic blaster on his desk and went upstairs.

This time the music didn't fade out when the door to the lab closed behind the person leaving. Tony instructed Friday to put the music on the living room speakers.

"Tony! What are you doing?" yelled Natasha over the loud rock music. Next to her, Bruce put his noise cancelling earplugs in again.

"What? Don't you like it? They're really good!" Tony yelled back, a large grin on his face.

"I might like it, if it wasn't making my ears bleed from the sheer force of the sound waves!" Natasha held her hands over her ears, for real this time. "Friday! Turn that down, please!"  
The next moment the music was at a normal sound level, so they didn't have to yell at each other anymore.

Thor turned on the couch. "I know this song," he said. "They were playing it on the radio in the gym yesterday."

"Oh, yeah," Clint said, hitting the save button for the game. "I've heard it too. It's a new band."

"They sound pretty good," Natasha admitted now her ears weren't hurting anymore. "What are they called?"

The men around her shrugged. "Don't know," Clint answered.

"Friday? Help us out please. What's the name of this band?"

"They're called Loke-eye, miss Romanov."

"Loke-eye?" repeated Tony slowly. "That's a weird name."

"They're playing a show in the city tonight, sir." Friday offered.

"Really? You know what, let's go see them!" Tony said happily. "Who's in for a night on the town?"

Thor, Clint and Natasha put their hands up. "Bruce, you coming?" asked Natasha.

Bruce didn't react, he just kept looking in the magazine he'd picked up from the coffee table. Natasha walked over to him and yanked the plugs from his ears in one swift movement.  
"We're going to a rockconcert tonight. Are you coming with us?"

Bruce looked from one Avenger to the other before he declined. "I'd better not. The other guy might like it too much..."

"Right. We'll get you a ticket next time the New York Philharmonic is in town," Tony said with a smirk. "Friday, get us four tickets for that concert tonight."

"Yes, Mr. Stark."  
A few seconds later the AI made herself heard again. "Mr. Stark? I'm afraid the concert is sold out."

"You're kidding?" Tony replied in wonder. "They must be really good then. Get us in, do whatever you have to do. Buy the venue, for all I care."

Five minutes later Friday confirmed they had tickets to the Loke-eye concert that night.

"Loke-eye..." Tony said, letting the name roll off his tongue. "Still a weird name."

"Really? It sounds a bit like Hawkeye," Clint replied a little sourly.

"Yeah. Like I said. Weird name."

***

The line for the venue was long and filled with youths in clothes in various states of shredding. Tony eyed a girl up and down who was wearing a jeans that could no longer be called pants by any means. The trousers were slashed every inch, only held together by the seams. She showed more skin than pants, a large tiger clawing his way up her tigh underneath the shreds.  
"Watcha looking at, grandpa?" she spat at Tony, giving him the stink eye.

"Ouch," Tony said, putting his hand over his heart. "The youths these days..."

The four Avengers passed the line and went straight up to the entrance.   
"Stark. With three guests. Should be on the list." Tony tapped the clipboard the bouncer held in his hands. The bouncer, a granite block of a man, was not impressed. He just glared at Tony, his jaw set.

Natasha rolled her eyes and stepped forward. She put her hand lightly on the bouncer's arm and smiled sweetly. "Hello, handsome. You should have the name Stark on the list, four persons. Would you mind checking it for me?"

The bouncer glanced at Natasha, letting his eyes slide down from her face to her cleavage, before looking at his list. Without a word, he opened the door for them and let the four Avengers in. Tony walked in last and the door hit him in the heels.

Inside it was dark and noisy. There was a band on stage, the opening act. The Avengers found a spot near the bar and ordered some drinks. To Thor's pleasure they served beer in large mugs. The God of Thunder seemed to be enjoying himself in the company of the young audience who were cheering for the local band after they'd played their last song.  
Thor slammed his empty mug down on the high table. "Another!" he roared, grinning happily.

Tony got them another round of drinks and they watched the stage crew set up for the main act. The men and women worked in the dark, so only the faint outlines of the equipement on stage were visible. There was a big banner hoisted up at the back of the stage, no doubt with the name of the band on it.

The stage crew worked swiftly and it was not before long that the first members of the band came up on stage. The audience cheered and let out high pitched whistles. The drummer took his place behind his drumkit and at the right side of the stage a bass player slung his guitar over his shoulder.

"Where's the singer?" Natasha asked, close to Clint's ear.

The archer shrugged in response. He didn't move from his spot against the wall. The bar was on a raised platform and he was standing just on the edge of that. It gave him a better view, he could now see over the audience. Thor didn't need a step, with his height he had an unobstructed view of the stage anyway. Natasha and Tony didn't have that advantage, so they started to move forward through the crowd. Thor followed them, happy to be there where the party was.

The drummer hit it off and the audience erupted into more cheers as the first notes of the lead guitar sounded. The guitar player himself was still nowhere to be seen. In fact, the whole stage was still pretty dark. The only lights were a spot on the drummer and one on the bass player.   
"They may be a new band, but they certainly know how to build up a show," Tony said, leaning in towards Natasha to make himself heard.

They had reached the front of the stage. The crowd was pushing forward and people already started to dance.  
"They have quite the fanbase too!" Natasha said. There were a lot of people wearing T-shirts from the band. It had the cover for the album on it, a black and white picture of the singer with his guitar, leaning on someones shoulder, against a white backdrop. 'Born to rule' was spelled out in an angular font above the picture.

The song was getting to a peak and suddenly the audience cheered even harder. There were quite a lot of girls at the front of the stage and they all pushed forward even more than before. A tall, lithe figure appeared on stage, his fingers moving swiftly along the guitar strings. The spotlight hit him and if it were possible, the girls screamed even louder. Natasha fought the urge to put her fingers in her ears.

The singer had his head down, his long dark hair obscuring the view of his face. He was dressed in black leather boots, dark, tight jeans and a white shirt, the neckline ripped and showing a little of his chest.

Natasha thought he had a familiar look to him. She thought hard about where she could have seen him before, when Thor's odd behaviour caught her eye. The God of Thunder was frozen in place, staring at the singer on the stage in front of him.

It was then, that the singer threw his head up, swinging his hair away from his face. At the same moment, the stage was illuminated fully, lighting up the banner.

Friday had pronounced the name wrong. It wasn't Loke-eye, it was Loki.  
  


  
  
  
**Author's note:** _Images found on Pinterest, their original source is unknown to me. If you know the source, please let me know so I can credit the artists._


	10. Knives, so many knives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor and Loki visit S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters and they will have to pass through security like everybody else. Only, the God of Lies is not like everybody else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Loki, Thor, Ylva, various S.H.I.E.L.D. agents.
> 
> Ylva (Coffee & Books OC) has a cameo in this story. This oneshot fits in the AU from 'The Handler'.

The Bifrost scorches an intricate pattern in the lawn at the back of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, its rainbow lights revealing two tall figures standing on the lawn. They walk towards the building, paying no mind to the ruined state of the once green lawn. S.H.I.E.L.D. greenkeeping has already given up on trying to repair the field; every time the Asgardians visit headquarters this square patch of grass is the victim of their mode of transportation.

Thor strides into the hall, greeting the S.H.I.E.L.D. employees he encounters with a friendly smile. His raven-haired brother is less inclined to make friends and keeps a stoic expression on his face as he follows the God of Thunder inside. 

Every entrance of the S.H.I.E.L.D. building is secured and everyone who enters must go through a metal detector. The Asgardians are no exception to that, even though everyone in the building knows who and what they are. Fury's orders are not to be trifled with, though, so everyone must go through the same security check. No matter whether you are the Allfather's firstborn son or Captain America himself. 

The God of Thunder places his umbrella in the tray that sits on a conveyor belt that takes it through an X-ray scanner. "Good morning, Howard," he greets the agent that keeps an eye on the scanner. "Good morning, Mike," he says to the agent that's waiting for him to step through the security gate. 

There's only one security gate at the back entrance of the building, so Loki has to wait his turn. He does so with an impatient scowl on his face, rolling his eyes when the gate beeps as Thor steps through.   
"Did I forget something again?" The Avenger obligingly holds up his arms so Mike can use the hand scanner on him. It beeps at his waist, making Thor look down at his jeans. "Are belt buckles considered weapons now too?"

"Not a weapon, Sir," Mike answers. "But it's metal, so it has to go through the X-ray."

Thor steps back through the gate, making it go off again, and pulls his belt from the loops in front of the conveyor belt. Loki leans against the side of the machine, eyeing his brother with a hint of annoyance.   
"Who could've thought belt buckles were dangerous?" Thor remarks, a half-assed try for a joke.

Loki shrugs. "I could do a lot of damage with that."

The oldest brother gives the innocent looking belt buckle another glance before he drops it in the waiting tray, watching it go through the X-ray machine. "I suppose it has its possibilities."

After Thor has threaded his belt back into the loops of his jeans, it's Loki's turn. "Your weapons, please, Sir," Howard asks politely. 

Loki gives him an unimpressed stare as he opens his belt buckle and pulls the black leather item from its loops. "Does silver count too?" he asks, showing the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent his cuff links. 

"Yes, Sir," is the answer and Loki rolls his eyes again, though he unfastens the dagger shaped cuff links and puts them down in the tray. "Any other weapons or metal items on you?"

Loki pins the agent with a hard stare as he slowly puts his hand inside his jacket and pulls out a dagger. A matching dagger comes from the inside pocket on the other side, both knives almost as long as the plastic tray they're now in.

"Don't forget the one on your ankle, brother," Thor calls out helpfully, countering Loki's dark look with a goofy smile. A moment later a smaller knife joins the two daggers in the plastic tray. 

"Thank you, Sir," Howard says, gesturing for the Asgardian in black to walk through the security gate. 

The loud beeps and the red light flashing on top of the gate are a clear indicator that there is still some metal somewhere on Loki's body. The handheld scanner says so too. "Please go back and empty your pockets, Sir," Mike orders in a polite manner. 

If Thor was paying close attention, he would see the way the right corner of Loki's mouth turned up slightly. Then he would know that the two daggers that went in the second plastic tray, were not the last. As it is, Thor only catches on to Loki's play when his brother walks through the security gate for the third time, still making the alarms go off. 

The S.H.I.E.L.D. agent by the gate makes a move to pat Loki down and the God of Mischief fixes him with an angry glare. "You don't get to touch me."

"Sir, I can't let you go through with possible conceiled weapons on your body. You really have to put all your weapons and other metal items in the tray or else I _will_ have to search you." It speaks for Mike that he is brave enough to pack some firmness in his voice.

Ten minutes later there are no less than twenty different throwing knives laying next to the X-ray scanner, a diverse assortment ranging in length and width. And still the alarms go off when Loki strolls through the gate, no longer bothering to hide his smirk. 

While his brother makes another round of emptying his pockets, this time even pulling a knife from behind his ear, Thor grabs the arm of a young S.H.I.E.L.D. agent that walks by. "Please go get Lady Frederikson for me. She works on the tenth floor."

The assortment of knives has grown to twentyfive when Loki steps another time through the gate, the red light on top flashing again. "Brother," sighs Thor. "Will you please stop?"

Loki only smirks, pulling a small knife from his left shoe an dropping it in the tray. "Make me," he mouths to his brother, challenging him. 

"Oh, I won't," Thor answers with a grin. "But _she_ will."   
He turns to the woman that walks into the hall, dressed in a S.H.I.E.L.D. T-shirt on top of a pair of jeans. She wears a black holster, holding a dark gun, on top of the shirt. "Good morning, Ylva," Thor says warmly, kissing her on both cheeks. 

"Good morning, Thor," she answers just as warm before turning to the scene by the security gate with a smile. "Good morning, honey." 

"Hello, love," Loki says, not exactly smiling. "You called her?" he asks his brother, the feeling of betrayal clear in his voice. Thor only smirks in response. 

Ylva walks up to the gate, where Mike is holding his scanner, ready to scan Loki again. She shows him her badge. "Good morning, Mike. Why don't I search Mr. Laufeyson and clear him, so we can _all_ get on with our day?"

The S.H.I.E.L.D. agent steps to the side, evidently relieved. "Be my guest."

The God of Mischief willingly spreads his arms to be patted down by Ylva, the annoyance with his brother quickly making place for a fond look on his face as he looks down on the young woman that runs her hands over him in an expert manner.   
She pulls two more knives from his sleeves and one from the sock on his right foot before she gets up again, standing almost flush against him. "Is that all?"

Loki nods, smiling innocently. "I promise."

"Good." Ylva off-handedly puts the knives to the side and starts to walk back to where she came from, waving over her shoulder. "See you tonight, honey!" 


	11. The E-bay wars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Peter Parker, Ned, Captain America, Tony Stark, Phil Coulson

**Two years ago  
** "Come on, Ned, hurry up!" Peter dashed through the big hall, avoiding people left and right and almost tackling a large Wookiee who angrily shook his hairy fist at the young boy.

Ned did his best to follow his best friend, frantically trying to keep his orange ninja-mask in place while running. The big shell on his back bounced up and down, hitting his legs with every step he took. "I should have chosen Splinter," he wheezed, immediately shaking his head at himself. Master Splinter's whiskers would fall off his face in no time. Maybe if he had implants, like that cat-guy he saw on YouTube the other day...

"Ned!" Peter hopped up and down impatiently, waiting for his friend to catch up. "Use your ninja skills, man!"

"Easy for you to say," Ned panted, having reached Peter. He clapped the round red-white-and-blue shield that was hanging on his friend's back. "Your suit is a lot easier to run in!"

"You're the one who wanted to be a Ninja Turtle," Peter threw back. "Come on, it's right over there." He pointed to a booth with a large banner above it with the familiar stars and stripes and sprinted towards it.

The slender boy worked his way forward to the edge of the table, his eyes scanning the merchandise on display. "Got it, got it..." he muttered under his breath, as most of the products displayed were already gracing the shelves in his room at home. Then he spotted the item he wanted; of course it was right on the other side of the table. Peter tried to worm his way past the people who were browsing the booth. "Excuse me, sorry, coming through."

"Watch it!" a splendidly dressed Legolas complained as Peter tried to push past him.

"Sorry, sir!" Peter immediately excused himself. "Love your costume!"

When Peter finally reached the side of the booth where the wanted item was displayed, he had to wait and watch how a middle-aged man with a Captain America T-shirt took the boxed bobblehead figure from the table and handed it to the merchant.   
"This one, please," the man said, pulling a leather wallet with Cap's shield on it from his back pocket. He looked like an accountant, or a history teacher, something boring anyway.

Peter's own money was burning in his pocket while the man painstakingly slowly counted the 36 dollars out in the merchant's hand. "Come on, Captain Slow," he muttered softly.

"Something wrong, young man?" the older man asked, looking at Peter with a raised eyebrow. A teacher, this man was definitely a teacher.

"No, sir," Peter said sweetly, plastering a fake smile to his face.

"Enjoy your purchase," the merchant said and handed the man a plastic bag containing the boxed bobblehead. Then he turned to Peter. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, I'd like the Captain America 1945 limited edition bobblehead, please," Peter said hurriedly. He didn't see one on the table, but surely there would be more?

"Sorry, kid," the merchant said. "That was my last one." He gestured to the middle-aged man who walked away with his plastic bag.

Peter's jaw dropped. "You're kidding!"

The merchant shook his head. "Nope. Too bad, kid. Better luck next time."

**Five months ago**  
Ned looked up from his comicbook to see why Peter was cheering in front of his computerscreen. "Yeah! Eat that, you asshat! _Ismellfreedom01_ strikes again! 60 dollars over asking price!"

Ned narrowed his eyes at the screen. "A commemorative set of Captain America and Bucky salt and pepper shakers? Don't you already have those?"

Peter swivelled his chair to look at his friend. "I do. First edition. And I've got the misprint too, where Bucky has a blank star on his arm."

"So why were you bidding on E-bay then?" Ned stared at his friend incrediously.

"To mess with _CapAm64_ , of course!" Peter drummed his hands on his legs in triumph.

Ned groaned. "That guy again?" Ever since Peter found out the guy who went by the alias _CapAm64_ on all the Captain America blogs and forums was the same guy who had beaten him to buying some limited edition bobblehead at ComicCon, he was obsessed. It had started some sort of crazy competition between the two of them, constantly trying to outbid each other or trying to be the first to own some novelty Captain America item. The war between _Ismellfreedom01_ and _CapAm64_ was a pretty nasty one.

"Come on, Ned! I hardly ever get to beat this guy. He is an adult, with a job. He can spend his whole teacher salary on new stuff, things I sometimes can only dream of!" Peter spinned his chair. "It's funny when I can bid against him to drive the price up!"

"Not so funny when you end up having the highest bid," Ned mused.

"That was one time!" Peter exclaimed. "Alright, twice... no, three times. But the third time doesn't count because I was able to sell those matching Cap and Bucky Christmas ornaments for the same price!"

**Present day**  
"Stop bouncing up and down, kid," Tony Stark ordered the hyper active teen on the chair next to him. 

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark." Peter tried to stay seated. First, he tried sitting on his hands, though that only made him wiggle more. Clutching the edge of his seat was a better option and Peter pressed his butt firmly against the padded seat of the chair in the conference room. 

Any moment now! He would finally meet Captain America. The real Captain America! If only Ned could be here, that would be the only thing that could make this day better. But as far as his friend knew, Peter was interning at Stark Industries today, not sitting in a conference room at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters!

Suddenly, the door opened and a blond man stepped through. He wasn't wearing his star spangled suit, yet Peter would recognise that muscular, Dorito-shaped torso anywhere. He launched himself from his seat and almost leaped the table in his effort to get to Captain America as fast as possible.   
"Nice to meet you, sir! Captain, I mean! It's such an honor, sir. Err... captain!" Peter yanked the hand of his idol up and down. 

Steve Rogers looked questioningly over Peter's head, to Tony Stark. The billionaire shrugged his shoulders and smirked. "The kid is a big fan, Cap."

The Captain firmly grasped the teen's hand and held it still. "Nice to meet you too, ...?"

"Peter Parker, Captain," the boy beamed.

"It's Steve Rogers, son," he corrected. "You're not in the army."

"I'm not old enough yet, Mr. Rogers." 

"I figured." Steve smiled at the enthusiastic teen. The kid was digging around in his backpack.

Peter pulled the misprinted salt and pepper shakers from his backpack, along with a black marker. "Please, sir, if you would be so kind to sign these?"

Steve eyed the salt and pepper shakers warily. There was lots of Captain America merchandise in circulation, Stark Industries was responsible for the mayority of it. However, he didn't think this was part of the official merchandise; this was a matching salt and pepper shaker set that had him and Bucky hugging. Luckily, this was a decent representation: at least they were dressed! The kid was looking at him with hopeful eyes. Steve sighed and held out his hand. "Alright, give 'm here, son." He put his autograph on the back of the Captain America salt shaker. "Just this one? Or both?"

"Just that one is fine, sir," Peter answered quickly. Then he thought of something. "I guess Mr. Barnes isn't around?"

Steve chuckled. "No son, he ain't." He returned the salt en pepper shakers to Peter. "How much do these go for anyway?"

"Oh! This is a very special set, sir! They're misprints, see?" He showed the blank star at the Wintersoldier's arm to Captain America. "There was just one batch made. And I have not yet seen any that were signed!"

"Well, good luck with it, son." 

The door opened again. This time it was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, dressed in the standard suit and tie they all seemed to wear. He was holding a clipboard in his hand. "Captain, if I can have a minute..."

"Sure, Phil," said Steve, turning to the man. "What can I do for you?"

Peter's eyes grew wide. That thinning hair... the sharp nose... that flat voice... Granted, when he saw pictures or videos of this man, he was usely wearing a Captain America T-shirt or cap and not this dull grey suit and tie. Yet there was no doubt in his mind. This was his arch nemesis! 

Coulson shifted his gaze to the boy standing next to Steve Rogers. He had a visitor's badge around his neck and was staring at him. "Something wrong, young man?"  
Then the items in the boy's hands caught his eye. The commerative set of Captain America and Bucky salt and pepper shakers. The misprint. Those went for 120 to 150 dollars these days; more than his own set, which was in perfect condition. He suddenly recognised the boy too, he had seen his picture often in the last couple of years. _Ismellfreedom01._ The one who had tried to buy the same salt en pepper shakers as he had. But he had won that bid. Right?

Peter turned the salt en pepper shakers in his hands, purposely showing Captain's autograph and Bucky's blank star to the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. "Oh, nothing's wrong _CapAm64_. This is a great day!"

**Author's Note:**

> These stories were first published on Wattpad.


End file.
